Tintagel
by mamapranayama
Summary: A distaterous voyage lands Merlin and Arthur in enemy territory and depending on each other in order to survive and get home. Gen. H/C, action
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Hello! So, this is my first Merlin story. It was only a few weeks ago that I watched my first episode of this series and I was immediately hooked and began thinking about writing a story. I'm not sure how long this one is gonna be yet, but I do have it all plotted out and hope I don't run into the serious case of writer's block I've been having with my other stories from Supernatural and Stargate. Anyhoo, I hope you enjoy and I'd love to hear from you about what you think of this. Thanks for reading! :D_

**Tintagel**

When all of this was over and they were home once again, Merlin swore to himself that he would never, ever, ever voluntarily set foot on another boat again.

The constant and never ending rocking, the all-pervasive dampness saturating his clothing and the smell... the awful, acrid stench of unwashed sailors, rancid waste and God knows what else, combined down below in the hold were he sat on a crate, cradling his head and praying for some kind of relief from the chronic nausea assaulting him was more than enough for him to swear off sailing now and forever.

He was a farm-boy, through and through. Born on the land and raised as far from the sea as possible, he was convinced with every wave that cashed against the hull of the ship and sent it lolling from side to side that sailing was a profession that could only be taken up by either the stupid or the insane.

He managed to lift his aching head enough to glance about the cabin. It was cramped inside with all of the cargo stacked and crammed into almost every available space, but his hopes of finding some kind of refuge down there where he couldn't actually see the waves bouncing them about were dashed as a his head and stomach refused to settle down.

His eyes landed on the hammock across from him where his master, Prince Arthur slept soundly, swaying back in forth with the motion of the ship. He wondered jealously how the young prince could relax enough to actually sleep during the interminable voyage. On top of that, Arthur had actually seemed happy and excited to be traveling in this moronic fashion and showed absolutely no signs of the sickness that plagued Merlin.

It just wasn't fair.

At least, Merlin thought, they should be back on land soon. It had been a long fortnight of traveling first on horseback and then by sea to Neustria to meet with Landric, the Majordomo, in order to secure trade with their people. In truth, it hadn't been the grandest embassy ever with only a handful of knights accompanying he and Arthur on the journey, but it had been necessary. Camelot and Neustria had enjoyed many years of peaceful trading; Camelot supplying the Gaulish nation with wool and fine cloth while in return importing their rich wine and exotic spices back to their kingdom. However, a recent disease amongst several of the sheep herds within Camelot had cut wool and cloth production by almost a third that year and prices would have to be raised in order to make up the short fall.

Uther had insisted on Arthur leading this mission to learn the value of negotiations and trade with foreign nations, something for which Arthur had been less than enthusiastic about as he'd much rather brandish a sword against a thousand-man army than talk to foreign administrators about wool prices. But being the ever devoted son looking for his father's approval, he did as he was instructed and took on the journey over land and sea to settle a new trade agreement, dragging poor Merlin along with him.

Sitting on his crate while the ship bobbed from side to side, Merlin felt another wave of nausea strike as his mouth began to water in a disconcerting way that once again signaled a new and impending bodily disaster.

He bolted for the ladder that would take him topside to the deck and raced for the nearest rail just in time for his stomach contents to make their way up, out and into the water below. He heaved until it hurt and their was nothing left for him to bring back up.

When it was all finally over, he collapsed against the railing, letting his head hang, closing his eyes against the sight of the blue-green churning of the waves below.

"What a waste of perfectly fine food." A voice spoke up behind of him. Merlin didn't bother to look up nor turn around, instead he lifted his head only marginally so he could rest his cheek on the rough plank of wood.

"Food?" He answered wearily, in no mood for the haughty prince's jabs at his misery. "I haven't been able to eat a damned thing since we came on board this bloody boat."

Merlin felt a hand grab him by the collar and haul him back. The sudden movement did little to quell the storm that continued to rage within his belly. "Don't be such a baby, Merlin. It's not that bad. We've got a beautiful view of the ocean, clean, salty air to breathe and I've just secured a major trade agreement for Camelot. You should be happy."

"Happy?" Merlin shot back incredulously. "Happy to be puking my guts out? I'll be happy just to make it back to shore alive. I don't trust this thing not to sink into the sea and kill us all."

"Don't worry. We've only another day or so before we reach land and you'll survive. Besides, we've got one of the best crews taking care of us." Arthur gestured towards the large, bearded captain standing across the deck from them. With one hand on the ship's great, wooden wheel, he used his other to poke a finger into his bulbous nose, pulling it out before inspecting what had come out of it and then wiping it onto his already stained and filthy shirt.

Merlin pulled a face. "You're right, what could we possibly have to worry about." He moaned sarcastically.

"Here..." Arthur thrust a heavy, sloshing jug into his hands. "Drink this. It'll make you feel better."

Merlin took the jug without a thought, his mouth was so parched and dry from all of the heaving that any sort of liquid to slake his thirst was making his mouth water in desperate need of relief. Bringing the lip of the jug to his mouth, he tipped it up and let the semi-cool liquid hit his tongue, taking in a large gulp and swallowing quickly.

Immediately, he regretted taking such a huge draught without being more cautious about what he was putting in his mouth. Fire struck his throat, burning all of the way down into his already traumatized stomach. He coughed and sputtered, gagging on the foul, fiery aftertaste.

"That's... not... water!" He rasped and wheezed. "What _is_ this?"

Arthur laughed uproariously at his plight. "I don't rightly know...I saw the sailors drinking it and thought I'd give it a try."

"It's horrible!"

Arthur grabbed the jug back and took a swig then belched in a very un-royal manner. "Not so bad once you get over the initial pain." he grinned lopsidedly, his eyelids drooping ever so slightly.

Now Merlin understood a little better how Arthur had managed to get a nap in while on this blasted, bobbing boat; he was half-drunk.

Arthur took another swig from the jug then turned his backside to the rail and hopped up, sitting as comfortably upon it as one would a trestle bench. Merlin was instantly uneasy. Now besides being in a constant state of physical infirmary, he had the added burden of ensuring that the young, besotted Prince wouldn't accidentally fall off his perch and into the sea.

"Don't you think you should come down from there before you fall in?" Merlin asked, then added almost as an afterthought. "You're majesty."

"Oh please, Merlin. Don't be such a nagging, old mother hen."

"I'm just saying that if you fall in, I'm not coming after to you. I can't swim."

"Oh no!" Arthur came back mockingly. "Merlin won't be able to save me...now, there's a surprise."

Merlin would have rolled his eyes at that knowing just how many times he had been the one to pull the prince's arse out of the fire, but he knew that even that small action would only reward him with more pain lancing through his head.

"Oi!" The booming voice of the captain sounded off as he took notice of the two young men on his deck. He handed the wheel of the vessel off to another sailor and approached them. "M'lord...It'd be best if y'two headed below. See that out there?" He pointed out to the horizon where a swirling mass of black clouds was visible along with the occasional flash of lightning. "Looks like we got a mean storm headin' this way. Ye'd both be better off in the hold."

Merlin had no wish to go back into that stinking hole below the deck, but as a clap of thunder sounded and the ship suddenly lurched when a wave crashed into the port side, he wasn't going to argue with the wisdom of the captain.

Two hours later and Merlin was certain that he had never been so terrified for his life before. Rain poured in torrents into the hold while men, even Arthur's knights, desperately used every available bucket and basin to bale water out, handing each one over to the next man in a chain until the last man could dump it back into the ocean. Merlin too had been drafted into the work, but it was pretty much a hopeless endeavor- the ship was taking on much more water than they could get out. They were sinking; no doubt about it.

The ship rocked violently, water sloshed around, knee deep. At times it seemed as though the whole entire boat would completely tip over as men and cargo were tossed about at the whim of the angry sea. Helpless to do much more than hold on for dear life in those moments, Merlin could see clearly the frustration mounting in Arthur. The young man who would be king of Camelot one day was unused to being so out of control of his situation and it wasn't enough for him to continue the fruitless effort of baling out the water down below deck.

In the time it took for Merlin to hand over one more bucket of water over to the next man in line, Arthur had disappeared from his view. With a muttered curse, he realized that the man he was destined to protect and keep safe had gone above to brave the ugly tempest on the deck above where getting swept overboard was not only a hazard, but almost a given.

Merlin offered no apologies for abandoning his space in the baling chain and pushing his way through the flooded hold to the ladder that lead to the upper deck.

As soon as his head emerged from below, his face was struck by the wind like a hammer to an anvil. He squinted his eyes hard against the stinging, salty spay assailing him and fought to keep himself from being bowled over entirely as he made his way onto the slippery boards.

Merlin charged ahead. His place a by Arthur's side even if the fool had decided to head for the most dangerous part of the ship. He had no idea what Arthur thought he could do to help the situation; he may be an excellent fighter and leader of men, but he was no sailor. Despite that, Merlin knew Arthur's character and he wasn't one to sit on his thumbs when danger was present.

Even over the din of crashing waves, tumultuous winds and roaring thunder, Merlin could hear the captain barking orders to his men and not far from him he could just make out Arthur approaching the burly man, his feet sliding across the deck as wave after wave buffeted the vessel.

Soon enough, but not without substantial help from holding onto anything that might keep him from tipping over, Merlin had made his way across the deck to find Arthur holding tight to the rail surrounding the wheel where the captain fought for control of the ship, both of them shouting in order to hear each other over the noise. Mid-conversation, Merlin could just barely make out what was being said between the two of them, the captain pointing up and ranting.

"...Can't get the mainsail to drop...she's stuck...sent two men up to cut'er 'way...but they were swept out...we're bein' blown off course, but even worse, the strain's causin' the mast t'crack."

"What can we do?" Arthur shouted.

"Need to cut it down, but no man'll go up there now. S'too dangerous!"

"I'll go up." Arthur valiantly offered, to Merlin's great disdain. There wasn't anyway he could allow him to go up there, not when two had already perished in the attempt. He had to do something now. He searched his brain, quickly trying to flip through the catalog of spells he had memorized, but there weren't many that applied to this situation. However, one popped up that he thought might work.

Given the conditions of the weather and the low visibility, Merlin didn't bother to use stealth while working his magic this time as he could barely hear himself begin to chant the spell over the wind and he was confident that no one was paying him any mind, they all had more urgent things to tend to, such as keeping the ship afloat.

It was always a curious sensation when he used his magic, but a natural one. Like breathing or sleeping, it wasn't something he learned, but with the use of the spells he had mastered thus far since the day Gaius had given him his old spell-book, it was a part of himself he was beginning to understand better and a skill he was just starting to embrace and control. He just prayed that this time, he would get it right or they all were doomed to a watery death.

Feeling a surge of power burst forth from his toes up to his fingertips, Merlin let it flow over him and explode outward.

He looked up to the sky to the swirling mass of clouds, letting the rain beat into his face as he let the last two words of the spell loose from his tongue. He felt the power within him rise in a mighty crescendo and release.

It was a much more powerful spell than any he had ever tried before and when the last of the energy had fled from him he nearly fell to his knees as a wave of dizziness took hold.

However, his efforts were rewarded as a bolt of lighting, the one he had summoned with his magic, streaked across the sky and arced directly towards the stubbornly stuck mainsail. The rope that had snagged on the sail and kept it from coming down, suddenly snapped in a bright explosion of sparks and fire, causing it to begin to fall.

Merlin was overjoyed that it had worked, that is until he realized that his efforts had been a bit more powerful than he was hoping for. The stress from the sail tugging on the mast had already done it's damage and now the lighting bolt had not only brought the sail down, but was taking the entire boom that held it across the mast with it.

"Oh Shit!" He swore as he saw his mistake play out. Once again, he had managed to screw everything up, but he hadn't much time dwell on it when a massive and unexpected wave slammed into the ship and sent him sprawling.

His hands desperately shot out to grab hold of something, anything to stop his slide across the deck, but he could find no purchase. Eventually, his momentum was brought to a sudden and painful halt by the railing, slamming his back and shoulder into the wood, immediately sending the joint out of it's socket just as a thunderous and ominous crack reverberated from above.

It all seemed to happen in slow-motion after that. Time stood still as he watched the mast begin to fall.

He saw Arthur and the captain look up in horrified surprise.

He saw the boom, sail and mast heading straight for them both and he was unable to move fast enough to do anything about it, the pain too great.

Instinct took over from there. The magic inside of him shot out without his control, pushing against the massive pole. His only thought was to direct it away from Arthur, to keep him safe no matter what.

Splintering, the mast began to fall backward rather than forward where it would have crushed the Prince and he sighed in relief as it crashed, boom and all, into the ocean far from the man he swore to protect.

All he could do after that was breathe until the pain in his shoulder finally made even that a difficult task. Arthur looked about him, his expression stunned, but his eyes landed on Merlin as though noticing that he was there for the first time and his face took on a new emotion.

Was that concern Merlin saw, or was he just imagining things? He wondered.

In answer to his unasked question, Arthur left the dumbfounded captain's side and began to head towards Merlin, who still lay awkwardly against the railing, but now grasped his dislocated arm nearly in tears from the stabbing agony shooting through his limb.

"Merlin!" Arthur shouted as he finally reached his servant's side. "How bad?" He asked frankly, seeing the unnatural position of his arm.

Merlin never got a chance to answer. One moment they were together and the next the boat suddenly lurched to the side, sending them both over the edge.

_To Be Continued..._


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Thanks to all of you wonderful reviewers and readers out there, I really appreciate the feedback, it makes writing this so much more the pleasure. I hope you enjoy this next installment and let me know if it's any good or not. :D_

**Chapter 2**

Arthur would never admit this out loud to anyone, but somehow his goofy, gawky, big-eared, insolent knave of a manservant had wormed his way into the soft-spot just inside his heart.

He was unlike anyone he had ever met before. Sure, he was odd, awkward, sometimes annoying, prone to whining, a terrible liar and an even worse swordsman, but he was also loyal, brave and he challenged Arthur in ways no one else ever had.

Arthur wasn't sure how, but Merlin brought out the best and the worst in him.

But, one thing was for certain; no matter how much Merlin talked back to him, forgot to get chores done on time or prattled on during a hunt and scared away Arthur's quarry, he wouldn't want anyone else to be his servant nor by his side.

He knew Merlin would never lie to him in order to flatter his ego nor did he seek Arthur's favor by agreeing with everything he said like so many others did. The thing that inured Merlin to Arthur the most was his absolutely true nature. He was an open book; Simple and trustworthy. It was refreshing in a world where he was surrounded by so many devious and self-serving people.

Perhaps that is why after the near miss he had with the mast coming down straight towards him then the miracle of it being blown backward, he had not given the mystery of how it had not killed him any further thought when he saw Merlin lying against the railing of the ship, grasping his arm in utter pain as it hung at an obviously wrong angle. Dammit! The fool had followed him onto the deck. He had left him safe below, why had he come after him, what could he have hoped to do? His incomprehension at being saved at the very last second quickly fled as he hurried over to his servant, ignoring the whipping wind and drenching rain.

"Merlin!" he shouted over the din of the storm. "How bad?"

Merlin looked up at him, his face pinched in pain and Arthur was at a loss how to help him. With his back turned to the opposite side of the ship, Arthur never saw the gigantic wave that crashed into that side's hull, all he knew was the sensation of being tossed bodily into the railing. Instinctively, he grabbed onto Merlin's torso as both of them were pressed forcefully against the rail. There was a crack of timber as the wood supporting them could no longer contain their combined weight and the next thing Arthur was aware of was being airborne then falling, his hands still grasping tightly to his manservant's waist.

The falling part seemed to last forever, but when they finally smacked into the cold sea, Arthur felt his grip on Merlin break apart violently. He sank beneath the water disoriented, adrenaline pumping furiously through his veins. He wasn't certain which was was up or down, he only knew that he had to get his head above water.

He was an excellent swimmer if he had to be honest with himself. He could still recall the day when he was no more than five years old and his father had taken a beautiful summer's day off from his kingly duties and the pressures of court to take his son out to that small pond out beyond the boundaries of the castle walls.

"_When you are king, Arthur, you will need to learn that when you are thrown into peril, you must either learn to swim or sink to the bottom."_

Uther had then taken his young son into his arms at the edge of the deep pond. Arthur could still feel the fear he had felt then as his father tossed him into the air and he plunged into the cold, murky water.

Immediately, Arthur had begun to panic, helplessly flailing his arms and taking in what had to be gallons of the pond's water into his stomach, but his father's voice calling to him brought him back, assuring him that he wasn't alone, that he could do this.

"_Kick, Arthur!...Use your arms!"_ His father called from the shore. He calmed and listened to Uther's words and before long, he had improvised a form of paddling that kept him afloat and soon he was enjoying himself, laughing as he splashed through the water, growing stronger and more confident with each stroke. It wasn't until he saw his father wading out to him that he realized that his feet could have touched the bottom of the pond at anytime.

Arthur would never forget the look of pride that shown on Uther's face that day as he came in towards him. He had made his father smile and the swelling of happiness he felt in seeing it and the sense of accomplishment he had gained from learning how to swim all on his own had never left him. From that day forward, all Arthur had ever striven for, his feats in the tourneys, his desire to be the best at everything and worthy of one day taking the throne of Camelot, had been so he could see that look of pride on his father's face once again.

Even now, as he struggled through the churning waters when all seemed hopeles and he was sure to die, his father's face came to his mind's eye and though the man himself was not there, he would not let him down. He would not sink and die out there in the ocean.

He fought.

He kicked.

He used his arms.

Breaking up from beneath the waters, his head shot up into the open air. He gasped for breath only to realize at once that he had lost sight of Merlin.

"Mer-Lin!" He shouted, but there was only the roar of the waves that reached his ears. Arthur took a deep breath, filling his lungs as far as they could expand, then dove again into the choppy water.

It was nearly pitch-black under the water as he strained to see any sign of his servant, the only light coming from the flashes of lightning that lit up the stormy sky. He wouldn't be responsible for letting Merlin drown, even if the idiot had chased him onto the deck when he should have remained in the hold with the others.

Worry and anger collided with each other in his breast as he broke to the surface again and stole a breath before diving back under the dark water once more.

His head darted about under the surface when at last there was a flash of lightning and he suddenly saw a shock of red out of the corner of his eyes, the same red colour of the kerchief that seemed to be a permanent fixture around the dark-haired boy's neck. Arthur quickly turned and swam with all of his might toward it and reached out, touching an arm that floated above Merlin's head. Once he was close enough, he dove deeper and grabbed Merlin about the chest with his strong arms before he could sink any further. Merlin's limbs and head sagged limply as Arthur gripped him tight and pumped his legs in order to propel them both to the world above.

Arthur strove for the surface, his lungs burning with desire for air. Though Merlin was by far one of the thinnest boys he had even known, his weight dragged and slowed their assent. But, he wouldn't let him go even as lights danced before his vision from the lack of oxygen.

Straining under the effort, Arthur sought out his last ounce of strength from deep within and finally broke through the waves and reached air. He gulped air in tremendous gasps, fighting to bring Merlin up with him until he too had his head above water.

Arthur drew Merlin's dead weight up, one arm wrapped around his chest as he laid his back against the surface of the water in order to float more effectively. With his other hand he waved towards the ship where he could just barely make out the large figure of the captain standing and looking out into the sea from where the railing had given way on the vessel.

"Here! Here!...We're over here!" He shouted at the top of his lungs, desperate for the man to hear him, to turn the ship around and find them.

However, the ship was quickly growing farther and farther away, disappearing completely into the dark as the waves buffeted them. The captain clearly would not be able to make them out over the dark night and tempestuous sea and even if he could, the ship was too damaged to save them.

They were on their own.

Arthur shifted his focus from the pointless and futile exercise of trying to hail the captain and turned his attention to Merlin, who lay still and limp across his chest.

"Merlin!" He yelled, shaking the boy. He couldn't see his face, but from behind he could feel that he wasn't breathing. He shook him harder, afraid that all of his efforts to save his servant and now only companion amidst the waves, had all been for naught.

"Breathe Merlin!" He ordered, hoping and praying that this time he would actually listen to him and swiftly obey. He suddenly couldn't bare the thought of being lost out here in the middle of sea all alone. He needed him to breathe, to wake up, smile with that goofy grin of his and assure him that he wasn't going anywhere.

"Please..." He begged this time, his voice cracking as his throat constricted. Yet, Merlin remained still.

Arthur had almost given up hope and now that he had drawn Merlin closer to him he could see the stark white of his skin glaring in contrast to the black hair plastered against his brow, devoid of colour and life, his lips tinged a greyish blue.

"No...no no! You will not do this, Merlin! Dammit, BREATHE!" Out of pure frustration, anger, anxiety, fear, remorse and utter devastation, Arthur raised his fist and slammed it down into his friend's chest. How dare he do this to him! How dare he take the easy way out!

The effect had been almost immediate. Suddenly, a great burst of water erupted from Merlin's mouth as he choked and sputtered.

Arthur nearly laughed and cried in relief at the same time. "There you go...finally, you do as you are told."

Merlin didn't seem to hear as he could only cough and gag, but Arthur was never so pleased to see some pink returning to his face.

"Just breathe, Merlin...c'mon...cough it up...let it out." He encouraged Merlin as he shook in his arms, wracking out cough after watery cough, spewing more and more of the brackish water from his lungs. Arthur patted his chest in order to help some of the water to come forth and allow Merlin to breathe easier.

It was several minutes of this type of coughing and wheezing before Merlin's breathing began to settle down and he started to become more aware. In the mean time, Arthur had to struggle to keep them both afloat, his energy waning.

"Arthur? Wha?-" Merlin weakly rasped, his head darting about as though he just realized that they were in the middle of the sea, he started to thrash around in a panic and he could feel Merlin's heart pound as he tried to hold him tighter about the chest, fighting against his flailing, his wild movements nearly causing him to sink.

"Stop, Merlin. Stop!" He shouted. "You're making this much harder. Calm down!"

"We're in the water! I can't swim! We're gonna drown."

"We'll only drown if you keep this up!" Arthur snapped back harder than he had meant to, but he had to calm Merlin down before they actually did both drown. "Just relax, will you? You're just making things worse."

Arthur strengthened his grip on Merlin until finally, his thrashing came to an exhaustive end. Physically spent from the panic attack and from his injuries, Merlin moaned and went limp, his head landing backward against Arthur's chest and reminding him of Merlin's injured shoulder and the fact that he had to be in great pain. He wasn't sure how they were going to make it out of this one as Merlin couldn't swim and his own limbs were growing tired, his muscles sore, his body exhausted from holding them both up. They needed a miracle, but out there he didn't hold out much hope for one.

"I've got you, Merlin...we're going to make it through this. I promise." He assured Merlin, but in a way, he had said it to reassure himself just as much.

OOOOOOOOOO

Arthur lost track of how long he lay on his back in the water, treading water with one arm wrapped around Merlin and the other battling the waves in order to keep them above water. A breaking point was swiftly approaching and try as he might to keep moving, he wasn't sure how much longer he could keep it up.

Merlin floated in an out of awareness much of the time, moaning now and again, saying words that made little sense, but at least Arthur could be grateful that he was at least alive and breathing and he wasn't alone. He knew he wouldn't have lasted this long if he wasn't so determined to keep his only companion out there from sinking beneath the waves.

Hours might have passed, he couldn't be sure and he had swallowed so much seawater, that his throat had gone dry. He desperately needed something to drink and he thought it so unfair to be surrounded by so much water that was unfit for slaking his thirst. It was pure torture.

He felt Merlin shift in beneath his arm and turn his head. "What's that?" He asked wearily.

"What?" Arthur panted. "Where?"

"There." Merlin nodded his head to the left and Arthur turned his own to see what it was that had caught his servant's attention. At first he saw nothing and despondently figured that Merlin had been seeing things in his delirium, but when his eye caught a hold of a flash of white bobbing up and down in the rough water, his heart nearly gave out in delight.

The sail!

With the boom still attached to it from it's fall into the sea from the ship, it floated almost magically towards them. Arthur gathered what little strength and determination he had left and began to swim, dragging Merlin with him through the water towards the broken beam and in the space of a few minutes he had reached the thick, floating pole. He grabbed a hold of it with his free arm and wrapped it over so that it fit under his armpit.

He maintained a tight grip to Merlin as he was too weak, injured and out of it to hold on to the sail's boom by himself, but at least now Arthur could have a little rest and allow the pole to keep them afloat without him having to tread water. Every so often Arthur would trade off arms when one became to numb to stand anymore, but the transfers caused pain for the younger man each time he attempted them, so he held out exchanging them as long as possible.

Arthur became only aware of the up and down motion of the waves, his mind slipping almost into a trance as he held on. He knew he couldn't sleep, but his exhaustion couldn't keep him completely alert. After so long being wet, he never truly noticed when it stopped raining nor when the wind stopped lashing him from all directions. He was lulled almost by the constant rocking and keeping his eyes open, especially when the waves began to settle down into a gentle bobbing, made staying alert all the more troublesome.

Merlin had grown quiet as well, but the feel of his chest rising regularly and his heart beating under Arthur's arm was almost as sleep inducing as his pure physical and mental exhaustion. At one point he closed his eyes, hoping to rest them for just a moment, his head rolling against the shoulder of the his arm wrapped around the pole.

He wasn't even truly conscious of the fact that he had fallen fast asleep until he felt movement on top of him.

"Arthur." Merlin coughed after his dry voice attempted to raise his attention. "Arthur...wake up."

"Lee me 'lone." Arthur grumbled blearily. He just wanted a few more precious moments of rest, then he could get about to the business of saving their arses again.

"Arthur...Arthur c'mon...Look." Merlin panted and then poked the prince in his side. He was annoyed at first to be dragged out of his peaceful slumber, but Merlin was persisent and Arthur could not help but pry open his tired eyelids. He glanced up to see Merlin's head turned and his eyes looking beyond Arthur's shoulder and he had to crane his neck around to see what Merlin was observing. When he finally did see it, a smile cracked across his face.

While golden rays of early morning sunlight broke through the thinning clouds above, the sounds of the ocean breaking into soft whitecaps against the shore reached his ears like a heavenly melody, but even better than that was the sight of rocky cliffs and blessed, blessed land.

_To be continued._


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Thanks again for tuning in and continuing to read this story. Y'all are making this first venture into the Merlin fandom a lot of fun and I hope you let me know what you think, I love reviews- good or bad. :D_

**Chapter 3**

Merlin was never so grateful to see cliffs, but it felt like an eternity waiting for the waves to propel them to the shore. It was such pure torture to be so close, yet so far away. On top of that he felt humiliatingly useless with Arthur holding onto him, keeping them both afloat as did he his best to steer them towards land.

He wanted to help with the effort, but his arm was useless, his head throbbed painfully and each breath he took in was a stabbing reminder of the abuse his lungs had taken when they had fallen into the water. Also, he felt weak as a kitten and he had developed a wracking cough that was only getting worse with each passing and even after his initial excitement at seeing land, his body refused to let him keep his eyes open for longer than a few minutes at a time.

He was just too damned tired, too thirsty and in too much pain to care anymore if they even reached the safety of the shore. He just wanted some rest.

Unable to fight it any longer, he dozed once again, unselfconscious of the fact that he had laid his head back on the crown prince of Camelot's chest, finding it was his only escape from the pain and the bone-aching cold.

He was certain that he had only be asleep for a minute or two, before he heard Arthur shouting, but he couldn't force his eyes to open all of the way to bring him fully back into awareness, as he was just too drained. It was as if the world outside of his mind was so far away and growing ever more distant and he could only wonder why the devil Arthur was yelling. Was it at him? Had he done something wrong?

Those concerns however were so remote compared to the pull sleep once again had on him that he could care less about what Arthur was complaining about this time. He could shout all he wanted at Merlin, he just couldn't bring himself to care.

His eyes fell closed and soon he was once again submerged in darkness.

OOOOOOOO

"Merlin!" Arthur shouted. "Wake up...Wake up!" Weakly, he shook the younger boy's shoulders. "C'mon..."

Beneath his arm, Merlin coughed, his eyes opening for the briefest of moments before he groaned weakly then fell back into unconsciousness once more. It was getting harder and harder to keep the kid awake, ratcheting up Arthur's anxiety for his friend.

Merlin's breathing had become markedly worse in time between the first time the saw land and now that Arthur was afraid that if he stopped now and rested that it might be too late to help him by the time they finally made it to the coast.

However, Arthur had never known such pure physical exhaustion before. Sure, he had exercised his body since childhood to be a fit, fighting machine, but no amount of training could have ever prepared him for this level of agony. His limbs burned from holding onto Merlin while grasping the pole and he wasn't sure how much longer he could kick his legs in order to help them both make it to the shore.

He kept fighting though, Arthur was not one to accept defeat, he would rather die than surrender, even if his opponent was the ocean itself. Mother nature had nothing on Arthur Pendragon, he told himself in order to bolster his courage, she could shove it where the sun didn't shine. He was going to make. Period.

At last, his struggles were making some progress. He could feel the nature of the waves change from the up and down motion that had them bobbing to one that pulled them back and forth. They were almost there, he couldn't give up now, even if his body was screaming at him to stop.

For a brief moment, he allowed himself to rest, just so he could face the last part of this battle. As soon as he had done so, his eyes fixed on the shore. At first, Arthur assumed that he too had become delirious from the lack of water and fatigue, that when he saw a figure on the cliff face, he believed he was seeing things.

However, when that figure began lowing itself until it reached the bottom of the cliff then walked towards the shore, he was overjoyed to realize that it was a real person.

He started to wave his arm and shouted, hoping this boy might see them.

OOOOOO

Jack carefully tied the rope about his waist, twisting it into an intricate knot that he was certain would hold while Hammet tied the other end around the boulder that would act as an anchor.

As soon as Hammet had finished, He stooped low and picked up the leather satchel at his feet then walked over to Jack handing it over wordlessly. Jack took the bag and slung it across his shoulder and chest then used his belt to tie it over the satchel's strap and hold it securely, because nothing could be worse than risking your life to retrieve treasure only to lose because you hadn't kept it safe from falling out.

"Ready?" Hammet asked.

Jack blew out a breath and nodded. Truth was, he was nervous. It had only been a few day since Kernow, another lad from the village, had fallen when his rope snapped and Jack certainly didn't want that to happen to him. But, Jack had been doing this for over four years now, climbing down the cliffs and gathering the eggs the guillemots laid within the ledges and he always made certain his ropes were in good shape and expertly tied about him. Plus, he had his younger brother, Hammet there to watch out for him should anything happen. He really had nothing to worry about, he told himself, he just had to remember to keep his wits about him just as his father had taught him.

No one could deny it was dangerous work, but the rewards outweighed the risk in his opinion as the eggs were a favourite delicacy of the king and if he gathered enough today, he and Hammet would likely see a nice, heavy purse as payment so their mother, Bronwyn, could put food in their bellies for the rest of the week. And this money was sorely needed, especially now that their father had passed and he was the man of the house.

Jack took hold of the rope tied about his stomach and began to walk backward towards the cliff, keeping an eye on his footing as he went while Hammet held tight to the other end, helping to lower him down the face of the cliff.

Jack had learned to not do much looking around at the scenery other than keeping his eyes on the cliff face for the eggs as being up this high could cause any man to come down with a serious case of vertigo, but he kept his senses sharp as mother guillemots could be fiercely protective of their eggs, especially since they could only lay one at a time, and a swooping attack from one of these birds could easily throw one off balance.

Slowly he continued to descend, collecting what he could reach and carefully placing the blue-green, speckled eggs he found into his satchel. Jack braced his feet against the wall of the cliff and with a hand on the rope, he sidled over to one particularly large egg, hoping to pluck it from its tiny ledge and add it to his growing collection. Reaching out, he almost had the thing in his grasp when out of nowhere came a squawk.

All he saw after that was beak and feathers as the mother bird came swooping in straight for his head, he gave a little squawk himself as he wave the bird from his face then swept himself over quickly to retrieve the egg. Mother bird was giving up the fight though and as soon as he had the egg in his grasp she came him for another shot at him and this time she actually made contact with her beak to his arm.

The impact and the suddenness of the act sent him swinging from the rope and instinct forced him to let go of the egg and grab the rope with both hands. He watched in utter dismay as the nice, large egg he had just plucked, fell.

"Jack!" Hammet shouted from above as he dangled and spun until managed to right himself again, his back braced against the face of the cliff.

"Dammit!" Mad at himself for losing such a valuable prize and letting it break apart on the rocks below, Jack looked down forlornly. It was then that something else caught his attention.

He saw a white mass out in the water. He studied it for a moment, squinting his eyes against the bright morning sunlight so he could get a better look. There was definitely something floating out there. Perhaps it was just some floating debris, but when he looked hard enough, he wasn't certain, but it might be bodies.

It wasn't uncommon for bodies to wash ashore there, so he wasn't terribly surprised. Boats sank near this coastline often and given the severity of the storm they had last night, he wouldn't be surprised it a ship had broken apart against the rocks somewhere where he couldn't see it yet and this was just the first of the debris to come ashore.

For a small village like their's, wreckage from a disaster like that, though tragic that men might have lost their lives, could sometimes be a nice boon for the community. Often ships carried good like wine, food and sometimes even gold or other precious metals and if they crashed in their territory, it was King Howel's law that the first finder would get salvage rights and would be allowed to keep half of what was found while the other half would be taken up to the king's castle at Tintagel. If a ship had broken apart nearby, it was worth investigating.

Hopefully, once he was nearer the coast, he might also be able to see better where the wreckage, if there was to had come to land and if he was to be the first finder, his family could live comfortably, perhaps they could even afford to buy another cow to milk or pigs to breed. Perhaps they could live without the feeling of an empty stomach as they went to bed when money ran low. But, even if it was just a couple of bodies washing up and there wasn't a wrecked ship about, they could still have valuables on them that might fetch him a few coins.

"Hammet!" He looked up the cliff and shouted to his brother. Hammet stuck his face over the side of the cliff.

"What?"

"Lower me down to the bottom."

"Why? There's no eggs down there."

"I know that, you idiot. Look out at the sea...something's out there. I need to take a look."

"It's just some driftwood."

"No it's not..." He argued back, he didn't want to waste any more time bickering with his brother. "Just lower me down, NOW!"

"Fine." He barely heard Hammet grumble and a moment later he felt the rope begin to slowly lower him down.

Once on the rocks at the bottom of the cliff, Jack carefully navigated his way across their slippery surfaces until he reached the pebbly shore.

He chucked off his boots then rolled up his pant legs before walking out towards the breakers. At first, he was set to wade out only a little bit until the floating mass reached him, but as he peered harder out to the sea he could see that these bodies not in fact those of dead men. They were alive!

He could hardly believe his eyes. Jack had never seen anyone survive these waters, especially after the kind of storm that had struck last night. Dumbfounded, he could only stare until a voice called out from the water, shaking him from his amazement.

"Hel-lo!" He saw an arm lift up and wave at him.

It took Jack a moment to finally find his legs and get them working. Whoever they were, they needed help and his father had always taught that nothing was greater in this world than coming to the aid of his fellow man.

Splashing into the sea, heedless of the shock the cold water sent down his spine, he dove in and swam.

OOOOOOO

Jack never could have imagined how hard it would be to help haul two water-logged men get the final 100 yards back to the beach even though he was considered one of the stronger men in his village. He was tall, nearly six feet, and at nineteen years old, he had spent the better part of his life working from dawn til dusk in the fields hauling hay, plowing and anything else that required strong arms. However, he hadn't been prepared to pull in the dead weight of two men at one time.

The blonde, larger one, refused to let go of the thinner, dark-haired boy, making matters all the more difficult and by the time he finally had dragged them both out of the water and onto the beach, he was sore and exhausted.

"Help him!" He gasped. The way the man demanded his help chafed a little against Jack's ego but, obviously the man was accustomed to people jumping at his commands, so he let it slide. It was clear that his friend was in dire need of help as the man , a boy really about his own age, was barely awake and coughing fiercely.

"It's his arm...it need to be reset." The blonde insisted breathlessly. "I don't have the strength.

Jack knelt next to the kid and saw through his sodden clothing that he had indeed a dislocated shoulder. He knew that had to hurt, he had himself acquired the same injury last year when a gust of wind sent him hard into a cliff while he had been collecting eggs.

He knew it wouldn't be easy to fix, but he remembered basically how his father had laid him down on the ground, placed a foot on his chest, then pulled his arm straight up and over, popping the joint back into place as quickly as possible. It had been terribly agonizing for those few moments, but afterward, it almost immediately felt better.

Jack had never done this to anyone else, but seeing the pained expression on the boy's face, he knew he had to try at least.

He took the kid by the wrist and made his way to his feet. Immediately he saw the boy's eyelids flash open, and he was struck by deep blue irises staring up at him. At first he was taken aback, he had been hopeful that the kid would have been out of it for this and the fact that he wasn't and would fully awake for the painful procedure sent his heart pumping. However, Jack saw comprehension settle over his features and he gave a little nod.

"Do it!" The fair-haired one ordered from the ground, but Jack paid him little mind, his eyes were still locked on the black-haired lad.

"I'm sorry." He apologized ahead of time for the pain he would inflict, then without giving him any warning, because sometimes the anticipation of pain was worse than just getting it over and done with swiftly, he pulled up hard.

The boy's eyes went wide with pain, then squeezed tightly shut. His skin had blanched to a deathly white as he shouted in agony and Jack wished he had thought to give him his belt to bite on, but it was too late for that now, he had to finish this quickly. He pulled harder and winced when he felt the ball of the shoulder joint slip into its socket with a pop and an audible click.

Within moments, the kid's screams died down, turning into a soft groaning.

"Is he okay?" The blonde demanded to know, his head barely off the ground.

"I think so." Was all Jack could think to say.

The man just nodded after that, but his face was filled with relief and not a second later, he collapsed, his face planting into the sand in a dead faint. Jack darted his eyes back to the other boy, he had quieted and was again looking back up at him with those somewhat disturbing, yet kind blue eyes.

"Thank-you." The boy actually gave him a tiny lopsided grin before closing his eyes again and passing out as well.

Jack stood there between the two unconscious men he had just saved then threw up his hands. Just what the hell was he supposed to do with them now?

_To Be Continued..._


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Thanks again for all of your reviews, I really appreciate it. Hope you like this next chapter, there's not a whole lot of action, but we do get a little H/C in this one. Let me know what you think of it or any suggestions you might have to make it better. Thanks! :D

**Chapter 4**

"I say we leave them here. We don't know who they are and for all we know they could be pirates." Hammet conferred with Jack, looking down at the two men he had laying out on the beach after he had been called down by his older brother and asked for help with them.

Jack gave Hammet a disparaging look. "Do they look like pirates to you?"

"I don't know, I've never actually seen a pirate. But that's not the point. They could be dangerous."

"Oh yeah...They look quite dangerous." Jack took the blonde man's wrist and lifted it up until it fell back to the sand limply. "They're not even armed."

"I'm just saying that we can't haul them back up the cliffs while they're out like this and even then, if we took them home to mother, she'd have a conniption."

"I suppose you're right about that, but we can't just let them rot here. We have to help, especially the smaller one, he's injured. You know that father would if he was here. We'll have to wait until they're on their feet before we can help them back up to the village. Until then, we need to find them some shelter and get a fire going before they freeze to death."

Jack saw Hammet relent and shrug his shoulders.

"How about the cave?" Hammet suggested and Jack knew exactly which cave he spoke of. It was a decent sized hole in the cliffs that he and his brother had played in as children. He hadn't been back to it in at least a year, but it wasn't too far and working together, he and Hammet could carry the two men one at a time to it, start a fire and wait for them to wake up. After that, they could getter a better idea of what they could do for them.

Jack made up his mind. "Okay...we take them to the cave."

It took both of them to carry the blonde man, one taking his legs and one taking his hands. He was heavy and cumbersome and both Hammet and Jack had broken a fairly good sweat after they got him inside the cave. The other boy was much easier and lighter, though ganglier. Also, Jack had to be careful of his injured shoulder, so he took him up, carrying him from behind, his arms around his chest while Hammet took his feet.

Once both men were in the cave, Jack took up looking for anything he could use to start a fire. While he picked up driftwood, twigs and just about anything else that might burn, he barked out orders to his younger brother.

"Hammet, I need you to go home, get some blankets, some food and water. Also, take the eggs I collected from the beach and take them to the butcher- make sure he doesn't try to cheat you, those eggs should fetch at least 5 pence each...got it?"

"Right. And just what do I tell mother?"

"Don't tell her anything yet...just say that...uh..." Jack racked his brain to come up with a good excuse for being out here all night. "That we're going fishing at the pond and we'll be back later."

"She won't buy that, you know."

"Well, if you have a better idea, then you go with it, but that's the best I can think of right now, but whatever you do, don't tell her, she'll just worry."

"Fine." Grumbled Hammet and he turned to leave. Jack stopped him before he reached the cave's opening.

"Wait! Give me your flint and water...I forgot mine."

Hammet sighed dramatically, but reached into his pocket and produced his flint, tossing it to Jack then unstrapped his bladder full of clean water and did the same with that.

Once Hammet was gone, Jack set about making a fire, piling up the kindling and striking his flint to get it lit. It took some blowing and several more flint strikes before the damp twigs took light, but once they did and he had a goodly sized fire going, he held his hands out to it and re-warmed himself, letting the heat dry his sodden clothing.

He was just starting to feel somewhat dry again when there was a moan beside him and a wracking cough that echoed across the cave's walls. He turned to see the black haired boy had opened his eyes, their blue irises darting about the cavern in confusion until they landed on the other man laying passed out cold.

"Arthur?" He choked out before another round of hacking took over. Jack inched closer to the boy then grabbed the water Hammet had left him.

The coughing subsided, the boy peered at him with tired eyes. "Here." Jack said. "Have some water."

The boy's gaze hit the sack of water with near delirious desire and he tried to sit. Jack gave him a supporting hand, helping him up until he fully upright and sitting. He opened the stopper after that and handed it off.

Holding his injured arm close to him he took it with his good hand and drank it greedily until he sputtered and coughed. He took one last swig after that, then brought it down, panting heavily.

"Thanks." he wheezed slightly.

"You're welcome." Jack replied.

The boy looked over again at his companion. "Is he alright?"

"I think so...he must just be exhausted. I don't know how long you two were in the water, but looked like he was carrying you both and that had to be quite a swim."

Nodding, the boy inched closer to his friend and shook his shoulder. "Arthur?...Arthur?"

The blonde stirred and moaned, opening his eyes to slits. "Merlin?" He asked tiredly.

"Here...we've got water."

Now Jack knew both of the men's names: Merlin and Arthur. With his good hand, Merlin grunted and helped Arthur lift his head and brought the water bag up to his lips.

Arthur was sitting fully not a second later, tipping the bag of water up and nearly finishing it off. When he was done chugging, he pulled the bag down and finally noticed how much he had drunk.

"Here...there's still a little left." He offered it to Merlin, but the boy only shook his head, though Jack could see how much he desired more than the few mouthfuls he already had. "No." he said. "You have the rest...I had some already, I'm not thirsty." It was interesting to see how Merlin, though injured and apparently still in pain took such care to make sure that Arthur received the lion's share of the drink. He wondered why that was.

"Don't worry..." Jack spoke up to reassure them both that they wouldn't die of thirst. "My brother should be back soon. He'll bring us more water and food."

Arthur turned and seemed to notice Jack's presence for the first time, eying him some some suspision. "Who are you and where are we?" he questioned, looking about the cave.

"I'm Jack...I helped you out of the water, remember?"

"I'd rather not." Arthur grumbled, but persisted in his questioning. "You you haven't told us where we are yet."

"Well...we're in a cave."

"Yes..." Arthur dragged the word out and gave him a look that made jack feel down-right stupid. "I see are a student of the blatantly obvious, just like Merlin here."

At that, Merlin rolled his eyes, but didn't talk back, it was more like he just absorbed the verbal taunt, as if he was so used to it that it just didn't bother him any longer.

"What I really need to know is what_ land_ we are in. Our ship was blown off course by the storm and we didn't know where we were when we were both swept off the ship."

"You mean, your ship didn't crash?" Jack asked, trying to keep the disappointment out of his vice. He could have made a lot of money if it had and he could have salvaged what had been on board

"No, Our ship didn't crash...at least as far as we know." Arthur answered, his face beginning to redden as though he were getting irritated. "Do you have some problem with answering simple questions? All I asked was were we are...now if you don't mind..."

"Arthur..." Merlin cut in before Arthur could get any further steamed. "Jack here was kind enough to pull us out of the water, make a fire and give us something to drink. Maybe you should try thanking him before you chop his head off."

Momentarily abashed, Arthur sighed, dropped his angry posture and softened his tone of voice. "I'm sorry...I'm very tired and I just need some answers."

"It's alright..." Jack hurried to assure him. "You've been through a lot. And to answer your question we are in Cornwall, only a few miles from King Howel's castle at Tintagel."

At those words, Arthur appeared to blanch. "And where are you from?" Jack ventured to ask. "You're obviously not Cornish."

"No... we're from-" Merlin started to reply only to be cut off by Arthur answering for him.

"Somerset...we're from Somerset."

"Somerset? Never been there...is it nice?" Jack asked, not missing the tension that had built in Arthur's shoulders nor the look of confusion on Merlin's face. If they were from Somerset, he'd eat his hat.

"Oh yes...very. Isn't that right, Merlin?" The younger boy looked at him askew, but a single facial gesture that spoke of a beating if he didn't agree had Merlin nodding.

"Yeah...it's...nice."

Jack wasn't stupid enough to believe them, but they knew him about as well as he knew them and trust could be hard won between strangers, so he let the lie go and instead focused on the dwindling fire.

"I should get more wood. You two will be safe here and you should both get some rest . I'll be back shortly."

As Jack left the cave, he was half-tempted to hide in the shadows and eavesdrop on any conversation they were sure to have, but the lessons his father had taught him about keeping his nose out of other people's business kept coming back to him, so he let them be. However, it would have been interesting to know the truth about these two strangers.

OOOOOOO

"Why did you tell him we were from Somerset?" Merlin asked just above a whisper as soon as the boy was out of earshot.

"Because, Merlin. This is Cornwall. My father and Howel have been bitter enemies for years. If we go around telling everyone that we're from Camelot, we'll surely be arrested as spies and I for one have grown fond of keeping my head attached to my shoulders."

"But the war between Camelot and Cornwall was over years ago and there was a truce, was there not?"

"Yes, but that doesn't mean we're allies. Just because there aren't open hostilities between our people doesn't mean we wouldn't be viewed as enemies here, especially if it were to become known that I am Uther's son."

Merlin nodded. "I suppose you're right."

"Of course I'm right."

"Yes...you always are." Merlin mumbled a little more sarcastically than he had planned on, but he was feeling quite awful. His head continued to pound, his chest was as tight as a noose and he wasn't sure he would ever be warm again, even with the fire blazing right beside of him. He felt a tickle grow in his throat that signaled another round of coughing was coming on and he was powerless to stop it. Once it started, he hacked and barked ferociously, trying to breathe between coughs and bring the painful wheezing under control, but the effort was futile. He felt as though he was drowning on dry land.

He was so caught up in his own misery that he barely registered the fact that a hand was beating against his back.

"Just breathe, Merlin." He barely heard Arthur say with some concern in his voice as he continued to pound between his shoulder blades.

He had to admit to himself that Arthur's ministrations helped some and after a few moments the coughing fit began to quiet down and he was left panting afterward. Next he found the bladder of water being thrust into his hands.

"Drink the rest of this." Arthur ordered.

Merlin was a little surprised to find his hand shaking as he took the water and swallowed a mouthful. The water was soothing to his dry throat and momentarily, he felt better. He just wished that right then he could say some sort of magic spell that would make the pain in his shoulder and his chest go away, but with Arthur hovering nearby, that just wasn't an option. He wished also that Gaius was there; he would whip up some potion to make him well again, but that too was out of his reach.

"You okay?" Arthur asked.

"Yeah." Merlin croaked then cleared his throat. "I think I just breathed in a little too much sea water."

"Nearly drowning will do that. I swear, when we get back home again, I am teaching you how to swim."

"When we get home, I don't want to ever see another body of water again." Merlin muttered, feeling every muscle in his body start to ache. He scooted a little closer to the fire, shivering as his teeth started to chatter, hoping the warmth might dry him a little further and make the never ending cold go away, but no matter how close he got to it, he couldn't make the chills stop.

"By the way...thank you." Merlin chanced a glance at Arthur. He looked peaked and exhausted, no doubt from swimming for the both of them and he was grateful that the young prince had risked his own life to save him. "You know...for saving my life and such."

"Just another day in the life of being your master, I suppose." Arthur sighed dramatically. "Anyway, sloshing around in the ocean all by myself would have been quite boring; I needed the challenge."

Merlin just let that comment slide off of him, he was too tired to find any witty retorts to come back with.

"We should stay here for now and recover our strength." Arthur continued. "Perhaps tomorrow night we can try to use the cover of darkness to conceal our escape out of Cornwall. Also, I'm not sure how much we can trust that Jack fellow, so tell him as little about us as possible."

"Okay." Merlin mumbled, his eyes were growing heavy and he was taken over by a sudden malaise as he stared into the sparking and lapping flames of the fire. Sleep, glorious and inviting beckoned to him and before he really knew what was happening, he was laying himself down onto the cold, rocky floor of the cave, giving into it.

He barely registered the touch of a hand to his forehead nor the curse that followed it and he didn't really care much when he heard Arthur say. "Shit, Merlin. You're burning up."

He just couldn't bring himself to care anymore. All he wanted was sleep, so that's what he did.

_To Be Continued..._


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Thanks to all of you wonderful reviewers out there! I apologize if I didn't get to respond to you all personally, but I really do appreciate the comments and you all have given me the fuel I have needed to keep going. Thanks again! :D**

**Chapter 5**

Bronwyn caught herself humming as she poked through the small vegetable garden, pulling weeds out by the fistful. She didn't even realize she was doing it until she reached the end of the carrot row and stood up to stretch out her back. With a wistful melancholy, she recalled how her husband, Aedoc, used to tease about her habit of humming or singing whist she worked and the memory brought a sad, small smile to her face. He had been a good man; caring, loving and a doting father to their boys, and even though his death was heartbreaking, she's do it all over again if she had the choice.

It was while she was stretching the kinks out of her back that she caught sight of her youngest son sneaking into their small house as if he didn't want her to notice his comings and goings and she wondered what he was up to now. She and Aedoc had raised good boys, but boys were boys and more often than not, they still managed to get into trouble.

Her curiosity peaked, she headed for the house. It wasn't a grand home by any stretch of the imagination; it was simple, made of waddle and daub and consisted only of one small room for all of them, but it was cozy. Even after Aedoc passed, Jack had taken over it maintenance well, mending the thatch when needed and Hammet too had pitched in, helping her to keep the place tidy and neat as she liked it.

However, she knew that her boys were coming to an age where they would soon find wives and would want to move out just as she had left her family to be with Aedoc. She had no idea what she would do without them then, but as every mother knew, she couldn't hold onto them forever and there would come a day when she would be alone.

She knew she would always work to do in their village being the only midwife for miles, but none of that would be as fulfilling without her sons nearby. She remembered the sadness in her own mother's eyes when she left her family and people behind and she wondered if she would be just as broken as she when her boys left the nest.

That thought chased her once good mood away until she passed across the threshold and entered the house. Hammet was already heading for the rear door, his arms laden with blankets and two loaves of bread she had purchased that morning.

"Stop right there, Hammet." She ordered sternly. What was he doing making off with the bread they needed for their supper? she thought angrily.

Hammet stopped dead in his tracks then turned around to sheepishly face her, casting his eyes down so as not to meet her glare.

"What are you doing with that, young man?"

"Oh...uh...well..."

"Spit it out, boy. I asked you a question."

"You see...uh...Jack and I were going to go fishing and...and we're going to eat our supper by the pond."

"Fishing?"

"Yeah...fishing."

Bronwyn didn't buy that for a second. For one thing, the only pond nearby offered little in the way of fish large enough to eat and second of all, he had no poles in his hands. She knew something was up and her boys were planning on doing something entirely different. They probably had it in their heads to go hunting coneys out in the woods, which they knew she didn't approve. The woods could be dangerous, especially if the king's men were out hunting. It wasn't entirely unheard of for people to be shot by a wayward arrow after being mistaken for deer.

There was also the fact that the Druids lived out there and while she knew they would never hurt her children, she didn't want them to run the risk of encountering them.

"You better not be going near those woods, Hammet. You hear me?"

"Yes, Ma'am...I promise we're not going to the woods."

"Well then, what are you and Jack up to? You're certainly not fishing, are you? And whatever do you need all of our blankets for?"

Hammet wouldn't look up, but stared at his feet as he kicked at the thrushes on the floor. "We're just...uh...taking an afternoon off. We collected a bunch of eggs and I was able to get a good price for them, so we should be set for money for the rest of the week and we thought we could take a little break today."

"Boy, you know how much work we have to do around here, what makes you think you can just take off and leave me to do all of it, eh?"

"It's just for the afternoon. We'll be back this evening and I swear, we aren't doing anything that you need worry about, but it's important I get back to Jack now, he's waiting for me."

Again, even as he pleaded, he wouldn't look her in the eyes and she knew he was hiding something from her. Normally, her boys were upfront and honest with her, but she knew without a doubt that he was lying and from the way his voice quivered a little she sensed that she should indeed worry about what they were doing. If there was one thing Bronwyn was most skilled at, it was determining when someone was lying, but Hammet made it easy for her, he always had.

"Hammet, you are a terrible liar and I won't tolerate it." She started in on him, peeved that he thought he could try to deceive to her so.

"I'm sorry, mother. I promised Jack." He said quietly and was silent after that, obviously torn between telling her the truth and betraying his brother's trust and she that reckoned that only made her more irritated. She was going to have to pull out all of the stops to get him to talk.

"You promised Jack?" She asked incredulously, throwing up her hands in exasperation then she leaned in close, taking his face in both hands and forcing him to look her in the eyes. "I. Am. Your. Mother." She let her voice drop threateningly, getting the boy's undivided attention. "And your father and I did not raise you to lie to us, so you tell me what you boys are up to _this instant_ and maybe I won't take a paddle to you so hard that you can't sit for a week."

That seemed to do the trick and he started to sing like a bird, quickly explaining everything.

"So, you see...we had to help them. They were hurt and half-drowned, we couldn't just leave them." Hammet begged for understanding.

"You could have just told me this in the first place."

"We didn't want to trouble you with this. You've had enough to worry about lately, especially after father..." Seeing Hammet's face descend into sadness tore at Bronwyn's heart and she enveloped her youngest son into a tender embrace. Of her two sons, Hammet was the one that took after Aedoc the most with his soft brown eyes and dark, curly locks which she kissed the top of while she spoke.

"I know, Ham. But worry is a mother's job. So, let me help. Where is Jack now?"

"In the cave by the shore."

"Good thinking, but we must be careful heading back to them and make sure we aren't seen. If the king's men were to hear that there were two foreigners washed onto our shores they'd have them in the king's gaol at once and anyone else caught helping them might end up there as well."

OOOOOOOOO

Jack found his way back to the cave, his arms full of driftwood that could be used for burning and keeping the little fire he started going for at least the rest of the night. As he entered the darkened entrance and approached the fire, he noticed Arthur straighten and protectively inch ever so slightly towards a sleeping Merlin.

The man clearly still didn't trust him, so Jack just placed a log on the fire then sat on the other side, keeping some distance between them, trying to prove that he was no threat to them.

That's when Jack peered across the flames and really took notice of the dark-haired boy's face as he slept fretfully. It looked as though Arthur must have fashioned a sort of makeshift sling for the injured boy's arm with fabric ripped from his shirt, but what caught his attention the most was the sweat beaded on his brow. He was white as a sheet, he coughed and shivered, but did not awaken.

"What's wrong with him?" Jack asked, concerned.

Arthur turned to look at the other boy laying on the cold ground worryingly. "He has a fever. He took in a lot of the water when we were out to sea." He lifted up the empty water bladder. "Have you no more to drink?"

"I'm sorry, that was all I had, but like I said, my brother should be coming with more supplies soon." Jack pulled the jacket he had on off as he had dried off while gathering wood and handed towards the other man. "here...maybe this will help keep him warm at least."

Eying him somewhat warily, Arthur took the proffered garment and draped it over the ailing boy. "Thanks." He said simply afterward.

"You're welcome." Jack replied then curiosity got the better of him, he wanted to know more about these two mysterious strangers he was helping. "So...are you two sailors? Is that why you were out at sea?"

Arthur looked for a moment as though he was going to laugh at that question, but then thought better of it and nodded. "Yes...yes. Sailors. That's what we are. Sailors...from Sommerset."

"You both are the oddest pair of sailors I've ever seen." Jack mused quietly, mostly to himself. He was certain that neither one of them knew anything about sailing. Arthur looked too clean-cut and healthy without any of the rickets and scurvy that normally affected most of the sailors he had ever seen while Merlin appeared to be so slight that he might blow over in one of the gales that blew in from the sea. For whatever reason, Arthur saw it fit to keep the truth of where they were from and what they did for living, then he would have to get by with the mystery, despite how much it irked him.

Jack and Arthur maintained an uneasy silence after that, but there seemed to be an understanding between the two of them; they would both be wary, but neither one would do anything to harm the other.

He was just beginning to relax a little, adding wood to the flames as needed when he heard a voice calling his name. Hammet was finally back and he sighed a little in relief, he just hoped that his brother had gathered the supplies they needed. He turned his head towards the sound coming from the cave's entrance and stood up before making his way towards the light coming in from the outside.

Making out a silhouette, Jack spoke up as he approached it. "It's about time, Hammet." He started in on him, making his displeasure at being left in the lurch for so long known.

"I'm sorry, Jack-" Hammet began, casting down his eyes and that's when Jack noticed that Hammet carried a couple of blankets in his hands, but no food or water.

"Dammit, where's the rest of it?" He demanded to know.

"I-" Hammet shook his head then turned to look behind him and Jack felt like smacking his brother upside the head for daring to come back here without everything they needed and for failing to complete even the simplest of tasks. However, he never got the chance as another figure emerged from the cave's entrance and he was left gaping, then shooting a sharp look of betrayal towards Hammet.

"Don't worry, Jack. I have the rest of what you need."

"Mother-" Jack sighed, feeling as if he had just been caught stealing a loaf of bread as she set hard eyes on him, her hands full with a basket.

"Hammet has told me a very interesting story. So, I thought I better come and help before you two made a mess of things."

OOOOOOOO

Bronwyn strolled into the cave, her eyes landing on the two strangers beside the fire. She turned to her eldest son with a look of disapproval as she handed him the basket filled with food and water. "You should have come and gotten me right away."

"I'm sorry." Jack apologized, looking at his feet. "I was certain we could handle this on our own without bothering you."

She shook her head. "Well. What's done is done, eh?" Jack still wouldn't meet her eye, so she added: "But you've done a noble thing here, rescuing these boys. Your father would be proud."

He looked up from that statement, his eyes meeting her's, grateful for the approval. "Now..." She started to say as she approached the fire and took in the sight of the two strangers. "Let's see what we've got here."

They were nothing more than boys, she thought as she assessed them both. The blonde boy came to his feet wearily, but gave her a slight bow. "Ma'am." He nodded. She couldn't help but smile at him and his impeccable manners; it was something she didn't see very often in their little community and that made her curious about the young man even more.

"What's your name, sir?"

"Arthur..." He informed her then added almost as an afterthought." ...of Sommerset."

She decided to ignore his obvious lie for now as she saw the boy on the ground shift and cough uncontrollably,

"Tell me about your friend, Arthur." She insisted as she walked around the fire and knelt beside the boy lying on the stone floor of the cave. "Has he been ill long?" She asked, touching his brow with the palm of her hand, feeling the worrisome heat radiating off of him.

"His name's Merlin, he injured his shoulder when we capsized and he nearly drowned. But, he took to fever only a few hours ago and he seems to be getting worse with every minute." He explained, concern clear in his voice. "Are you a physician? Can you help him?"

"No...I am a mid-wife. But, I've seen my fair share of disease before and I know a few herbal remedies that might help."

"Just do what you can." He ordered, but it sounded more like a plea to her ears.

She looked up, seeing the boy, struggle with his emotions, trying to present himself as a strong, fearless man. Yet, underneath his carefully constructed exterior, she saw worry and distress at possibly losing his only friend in a strange land.

"I'll try." She nodded, then set about looking over the ailing boy. She pulled off the jacket covering his chest and loosened his shirt then leaned in, her head resting over his heart and listening carefully. She heard and felt it thump against his ribs, rapid, but steady. However, what worried her more was the congested, crackling and rattling sounds he made whenever he breathed in and out.

She may be just a mid-wife, but she knew the boy was in trouble.

Sitting back on her haunches, she was a little surprised to see that the once sleeping boy had opened his eyes and was staring at her with weary blue eyes made to appear the more haunted by red rims encircling them. At first she was a little taken aback, to see him looking at her, feeling a tingle of something she could not put her finger on. But when he spoke, that fleeting feeling of intangible familiarity dissipated and dissolved into concern.

"Mum?" He whispered and wheezed and she thought her heart might melt. She didn't have the heart to correct him and played along with his delusion.

"Don't worry, son. You're going to be fine." She assured him and stroked his hair. She might not be his mother, but she thought of her own sons and what she would want for them if they had been in his situation. She would want them to be comforted and cared for, so she did her best to give him just that.

He sighed under her touch. "I missed you."

"Shhhh. Go back to sleep now, Merlin." She insisted and his eyes slowly closed again. She turned back to Hammet and Jack then waved them over to her, motioning for Hammet to give her the blankets he held. She rolled one up then gently lifted his head to place it under his neck. "We need to keep his head up, it will help him to breathe."

Taking the other blanket, she draped it lightly over him then turned back to the others. "Try not to put too many covers over him either, he shouldn't be allowed to get too warm."

She stood up then and took the basket from Jack, pulling out the bladder of water she had put in there then knelt back down to give some to the boy. When she was finished she handed the water over to Arthur as he too looked as though he could use it and was teetering on the brink of total exhaustion. "Here, you must be thirsty as well and you will be of no help to your friend if you fall on your face."

"Thank-you." He nodded taking a few mouthfuls.

"I'm afraid there isn't much I can do here for your friend. I'm going to have to go back to our home in order to gather the herbs needed to brew a remedy."

"But, he'll be better?" Arthur asked.

She held out her hands in uncertainty, wishing she knew herself. But, one thing was for sure, making a cure for him wasn't going to be easy and she accepted to herself that she would have to take additional steps to ensure it would work; steps that she hadn't taken for anyone in a very long time. "I can't say right now, but hopefully."

Arthur nodded. "I understand." he replied. She turned back to her sons after that.

"I'll come back with you, Mother." Jack offered,

"No!" She answered a little too sharply and quickly, but recovered just as suddenly, touching Jack on the arm and softening her voice. "Stay here with them, I'll be fine and this will be easier for me to do alone." She explained, but in truth, she could not have them follow her, not for what she needed to do. She could not allow them to know of her secret.

TBC...


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N: Sorry once again for being so terrible about responding personally to all of your reviews, I really have no excuse other than plain 'ol laziness. Plus, I've been more than frustrated with writing this chapter- I think I started and stopped then rewrote this more times than I can count and I still feel nervous about it not being good enough. Anyway, I hope you like it and let me know your honest opinion of it- good or bad, I appreciate the feedback. :D**_

**Chapter 6**

Making her way back up the cliffs had been difficult and exhausting, even when she followed the less steep path Hammet had shown her on their way to the cave and Bronwyn was quite out of breath and scratched up by the brambles and thorns scattered along the trail by the time she made it back to her little house.

Despite all of that, she had a single-minded determination to help the boys her sons had rescued. She wasn't normally so altruistic, but there was something about that boy, Merlin. She felt it the moment she touched him; it was like a scent that stirred up long-forgotten memories and when he mistook her for his mother, she knew then that there was a mother out there somewhere who would feel the pain of his loss should he die and she knew then that she had no choice but to help in any way that she could.

That also made the decision to use the one thing she had promised herself never to use again a sure thing: her magic skills.

She had just barely made it out of her teens the last time she had conjured. She could still remember it so clearly: the day she had been out picking herbs for her mother. The forest had been strangely quiet as she made her way through the trees, so perhaps that is why she could hear the quiet groaning when she bent down to pick a sprig of rosemary.

Curious about the sound coming from the banks of a small brook only a few feet away from her, she followed it and discovered him laying on the ground, one hand clutching at an arrow that had pierced his shoulder.

He had been out hunting, he explained later on, when from out of nowhere, the arrow had come flying towards him and struck him down, another hunter must have mistaken him for a deer as he moved amongst the brush.

She acted quickly and without much forethought she, as gently as she could, pulled out the arrow and using a healing spell her mother had taught her, she simply sealed up the wound. He had been a little scared and frightened of her at first for using magic on him, but a moment later when his shoulder was no longer bleeding and in pain, he looked on at her in wonder.

It wasn't long after that they were both 'accidentally meeting' in the woods quite often and soon she was madly in love with him and he with her. Of course, telling her mother that she was going off to marry him and leaving their little, tight-knit village had been almost unbearably sad. Outsiders like Aedoc were never accepted into their village and those that wanted to marry outside of their society were shunned. Her only option in order to stay with him, was to abandon all that she had known.

Her mother had been beside herself with worry for her safety and before she would consent to their marriage she made her and Aedoc promise that she wouldn't use her magic outside of her home village or tell anyone of where she came from, not even her children. To do so would raise suspicion amoung those they would live near and might direct the king's mistrust of magic on to them, leading either to their expulsion from the kingdon or worse, to their deaths.

For many years after that she kept her promise as did Aedoc and neither of them spoke about it. However, when he fell ill just over a year ago now, she had come so very close to breaking that promise. She would have done just about anything to keep him with her, just like she had the first time she met him.

He had started out a healthy big and strong man and over the course of just a few weeks he had lost weight, complained of terrible stomach pains and was soon too weak and frail to even leave bed. She had begged him to let her try healing him with the magic her mother had taught her, but he refused to allow it. He had said that a miraculous cure would only leave their neighbors questioning how it had come about and he wasn't willing to let her take the risk.

"_It's my only wish that you and our sons be safe."_ He had told her her that last day as he lay dying and she was so close to losing her resolve. Facing the possibility of life without him, she had been tempted to heal him with or without his permission, but the pleading look in his tear-filled eyes had stopped her and when he made her promise not to heal him.

She had reluctantly agreed then and had to watch as he slipped away from her. Perhaps that was another reason she was willing to even think about using her magic now. She had been unable to save him and since then she had lived with the guilt of knowing that she might have helped him, but hadn't. She wouldn't allow this boy to die when she could help; the remorse would be too much to bear all over again.

So, with that conviction, she entered her home and went directly to the little strongbox she kept safely hidden under her bed. She hadn't opened it since her marriage to Aedoc, but she had held onto it all of these years as it was the last gift her mother had given her before she left her childhood home.

"Take this to remember me by." Her mother explained as she placed the little book into Bronwyn's hands before drawing her in close for one last embrace before she left with the man that would become her husband.

She had kept it secret all of these years, but now she needed it. She blew off the layer of dust covering the box, then placing it on her table, she went to her cupboard and found the key. Wasting little time, she slid the key into the lock and turned, opening the box and pulling the little book inside out.

It was a spell-book, passed down for what had to be generations. Her mother had memorized it after it had been given to her just as her grandmother before her had. Bronwyn certainly hadn't memorized anything in it, that's why she needed it now; the cure for the pleurisy afflicting the ill boy was in there, she just needed to find it.

She flipped through the soft, vellum pages, lovingly hand-copied and colorfully illustrated with care until she finally found the potion and spell that might do the trick. There was no guarantee that it would work as she was extremely rusty at magic, but she had to try at the very least.

After reading through the ingredients list, she set about her cupboard to fetch them then mixed them together as instructed, heating the potion over the fire in her little kettle. Before long, it was a bubbling, roiling concoction that filled the small house with a foul stench, but one she hoped meant that it was potent enough to bring about a cure.

When she felt it had been cooked enough, she pulled the kettle out of the fire and placed the mixture back on her table, letting it cool until she could touch the pot. Taking a deep breath, she concentrated on the swirling potion, placing her hands on either side of the kettle, then looked over the words in the little book that she needed to say.

With more than just a little trepidation, she began to speak, the language of the spell, long unspoken by her, spilling from her tongue in a stilted voice until she felt a stirring in her breast. Her heartbeat quickened as the energy she could feel building inside grew and grew, her voice becoming more confident with each word of the spell she delivered until the power that had built up within her suddenly broke free with the last word, bursting forth from her hand and through her fingertips, the magic flowing across the metal of the pot and into the potion.

She watched with baited breath, waiting for some sign that the spell had worked when all at once, the now cool mixture began to bubble and froth with renewed vigor.

She hoped this meant that she had performed the spell right, but the true test would come when she tried to feed the potion to the ailing boy. She wouldn't know for certain that it worked until then.

Relaxing a little in relief, she sighed before taking her little book and placing it back on the table. She sought out a little jar and filled it with the potion so she could safely transport it back to the cave where the boys waited for her return and after that she left her home, closing the door behind her.

As far as she knew, she had done everything correctly and had forgotten nothing, however later she would find out that there was one thing she neglected to take care of.

OOOOOOOOO

He had been floating for a while until he felt a tug on his leg. He tried to fight it off, kicking his leg in order to throw off the unseen force, but it's hold was firm and unshakable and soon his head was going under, enveloped by the waves as he sank further down, down, down. There seemed to be no end to his descent and all the while, the light from above him faded until there was only darkness.

His lungs begged for breath, the pressure on them increasing as he descended. If only he could get to the surface and get his head above water...if only he could breathe...

He could hear sounds coming from above the surface, muffled and unclear through the water- voices perhaps, but he couldn't reach them, they were too far away and the pull of the ocean was growing stronger, dragging him down further the more he fought

Blackness swirled around the corners of his sight as the pain in his chest became almost unbearable, to the point where he didn't think he could hold on much longer...he needed air...

_He needed to breathe!_

"_Merlin!"_ He heard distantly, but distinctly. _"Wake up!"_

It was Arthur's voice he recognized, but he couldn't fathom how he could hear him so clearly when he was so far below him under the water.

"_Wake up, Merlin...it's just a dream...c'mon. Open your eyes."_

A dream, he says? Merlin isn't certain that it's true. He can feel the water surrounding him and the ever growing pressure in his chest, but he trusts the voice. If Arthur says it's a dream, then perhaps it was.

That's when reality started to encroach on his senses. The ocean's cold embrace let him go, replaced by the sensation of laying down on hard, stone, but the tightness in his lungs remained, stabbing him with sharp pain every time he attempted to breathe in.

He found himself now thrust from one nightmare into another as he tried unsuccessfully to tamp down the panic flaring throughout him. His eyes flew open as he gasped, trying to draw in air, but try as he might, his seemed as though his lungs were trapped in a vice.

Suddenly he could feel a hand tapping his face and his attention was drawn upwards, meeting Arthur's concerned face.

"Calm down, Merlin...just breathe...deep breaths.

Merlin shook his head. Didn't he understand how much it hurt? "Can't..." was all he was able to wheeze out.

"Yes you can and you will. Do you understand me? Just do what you're told for once."

Arthur wasn't taking 'no' for an answer as he took a hand behind Merlin's neck and began to lift his head up until he could get his arm behind his shoulders and haul him the rest of the way into sitting position, patting him on the back in an effort to loosen some of the phlegm that blocked Merlin's breathing.

The actions Arthur took along with his emphatic chorus of orders to relax and breathe began to have an effect and after a round of wet, hoarse coughing, hawking and gasping, Merlin began to feel some of the pain in his chest give way and he was able to get a few good, deep breaths in. While he still had to labour hard in order to get any air into his lungs, it was much better than the frightening feeling that he couldn't breathe at all.

Merlin slowly began to become more aware of his surroundings, but he was too exhausted to do much more than note the other two boys watching him with concerned eyes and the fact that Arthur had scooted behind him and he had Merlin leaning back to rest his heavy head on his shoulder.

Merlin could feel his eyes growing heavy soon after that and he might have drifted off for a moment or two, but a voice from the other end of the cave had him forcing himself to keep them open to see what was happening and before he knew it a face was filling his view and a hand was touching his brow. He thought she seemed familiar, but he couldn't be certain, but she did remind him somewhat of his mother. She had the same colour of hair as she, but her piercing green eyes were far different from hers. Even so, he felt a little tug on his heart wishing it was his own mother there instead. She always knew how to make him feel better.

"His fever is still very high." She observed just as Merlin fought for another inhale and found his breath catching. Ragged coughs wracked his chest, echoing off the cave walls and for a moment, he was sure that they would never stop, but when they did, the woman used a plain piece of cloth to wipe at his mouth. It came away red and smeared with blood and if he hadn't been so damned tired at the time, the sight of that might have made him frightened, but as it was, he just couldn't summon the energy to really care and he let himself fall backward against Arthur's shoulder once again.

"Do something, please." He heard Arthur plead, but surely Arthur wouldn't be debasing himself in such a way just for him. He had to be imagining that part.

"I have an herbal remedy that I've made, but I'm going to need you boys to do some things for me while I work: Jack, I need you to fetch some water. Hammet, we're going to need more wood for the fire. And you, Arthur- I need you to help them."

"What?" Merlin could swear he could almost feel the indignant frown Arthur had to be wearing then when the woman mentioned that he should help the other boys and he actually felt himself snort a little at the thought of Arthur doing any kind of menial labour. "No. I'm staying here with Merlin." He was adamant.

"Afraid... you might... pull a muscle?" Merlin found the strength to pant out.

"Look..." The woman started in. "I'll be able to work much better without the lot of you hovering over me, alright? So just go and help my boys, that's the best way you can be of help to your friend right now."

Merlin sort of wished he could see Arthur's face then. It wasn't very often that the prince was talked to like that, not that she knew that he was a prince, but still...

"Alright...fine." Arthur relented reluctantly and Merlin felt him push him off of his shoulder and helped him to lay back once again on the ground, taking care to place the rolled up blanket under his head to prop him up somewhat. "I won't be too far, Merlin." He told him and went off to join the other two boys, leaving Merlin alone with the woman.

She opened a little pouch she had in her hand and pulled out a small stoppered bottle, pulling out the cork that sealed it and even with a congested nose, Merlin could smell its pungent aroma from where he lay.

"I know. It smells bad and probably tastes even worse, but I need you to drink all of this and hopefully, you'll be feeling better soon."

Merlin was more than a little leery of the concoction, but before he could protest, she had brought the bottle up to his lips and began pouring it into his mouth. She was right about one thing, it certainly did taste far worse than it smelled and he nearly gagged on it. Sputtering, he somehow made the liquid go down his throat and almost as soon as it hit his stomach he felt a tingling warmth spread all throughout his body from his belly outward to his fingertips and toes

Things began to grow fuzzy then and as the space surrounding him grew dim and started to melt away, so did the pain. He was marginally aware of the woman watching him, he could see her lips moving as if she was speaking, but he was disconnected from her words and couldn't piece together what she was saying.

It was almost impossible to keep awake much longer as every muscle in his body relaxed and went limp and his eyes grew heavier and heavier, the weight of them too much for him to bear much longer. He blinked slowly one last time, the promise of peaceful rest too tempting to ignore, but just before his eyes closed all of the way, he thought he caught sight of the woman's eyes radiate a golden glow.

OOOOOOOOO

Mabyn was already irritated with having to walk more than a half mile to the mid-wife's house and was none too pleased to find that no one was at home when she knocked on the door.

She huffed shortly, cross that she had wasted so much effort just to see if she could pick up something to calm her whiny, daughter-in-law's irritable stomach.

The poor girl was only into her sixth month of pregnancy but already had complained more than any woman she had ever known. Every ache, pain, bout of nausea or case of heartburn saw Breaca moaning in her bed and refusing to get up. If it wasn't for the promise she had made her son to take of his new wife while he went off to the castle to serve the king, she would have told the girl to just get over it already and deal with the symptoms like every other woman in the history of childbirth had done before her. But, here she was, wasting the day for a little bit of herbs when she could be doing something more constructive with her time.

And now as she stood in front of the door to the house, she really didn't want to leave empty handed and have to deal with the complaints Breaca would be sure to unleash if she should come home without, so after she knocked one last time and received no answer, she tested the door and found it open, poking her head inside.

Bronwyn would understand her predicament and wouldn't mind if she popped in for just a second to find the stomach aid she had given her last time Breaca had indigestion. She would just borrow the bottle and make sure that she came back tomorrow to return it along with some of her hen's eggs for payment, she told herself.

"Bronwyn?" She called out one last time before she stepped into the small house, but just as she thought, no one was home. Even though she was alone, she still crept quietly inside as she headed for the mid-wife's medicinal supplies. Mabyn was not a very good reader, but she recalled what the little bottle of powder looked like and headed right for it, picking it up then dropping it into the little purse she carried across her shoulder.

It was on her way out when Mabyn made the discovery. Sitting on the table was a small, open book and she was drawn to it by the colorful designs displayed on the page, but once she got a closer look at it, she knew it was no ordinary book. She may not have been completely literate, but she was more than old enough to be familiar with the runes that belonged to the Druids.

Besides being shocked to find the Druid book in Bronwyn's house, Mabyn felt a deep sense of betrayal. She knew that Bronwyn had come from another village somewhere, but over the years, she had grown to trust the woman as had many others in their community, yet here was proof that she had been cavorting with Druids and perhaps even practicing magic, a crime that could have serious repercussions for their village should the king's men come to believe that their community had been knowingly harbouring her.

Well, this could not stand, she would have none of it!

Snapping the book closed and dropping it into her purse along with the medicine, Mabyn knew the only way to keep the King's men from ransacking their village, or even worse, targeting her or her family was to turn it and Bronwyn into the authorities at the castle. Her son worked their as a gate-keeper there and would know what to do with it and who to bring it to. Perhaps by doing this, there would even be some kind of reward for her actions.

TBC...


End file.
